


Premature

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 09:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: Rush and Belle share a drunken kiss on Destiny, but Belle doesn't remember the particulars, or why Rush seems so angry with her.





	1. Did you really think I needed that kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> The Angst Rush 'verse that came from the angst sentence starter meme on tumblr.

“Did you really think I needed that kiss back then when all that you conveyed in it was pity?”

Belle French stepped back as if she’d been slapped. The last thing in the world she felt for Nicholas Rush was pity. Irritation, sure. Anger, certainly. Lust, unfortunately yes. But pity?

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. It had been one week since she and Rush had been drinking together in Brody’s Bar, an odd enough occurrence for the two of them. They’d been forced nigh at gunpoint by Col. Young to leave the control room after a solid 18 hour shift and rather than go get some sleep like they should have done, they’d found themselves alone together and downing the most potent moonshine Belle had ever tasted. She must have had a thimble full too much because she’d impulsively kissed Rush and he’d avoided her ever since. 

It hadn’t really surprised her. Rush was far from the most likable person on board Destiny. He was abrasive and condescending and she was frequently the target of his ire. But there was something else there too. There was sadness and loneliness about him, buried beneath layers of snark and a disposition so prickly you’d be poked to death before you actually reached the man underneath. But Belle had always liked a mystery, a project, and she’d set about getting to know Rush better. 

She’d been well on her way, slowly but surely startling the occasional smile or laugh out of him, until the incident last week. Ever since Rush had completely shut her out. 

After 6 straight hours of standing side by side at consoles in the control room in which he said a grand total of 4 words to her, she’d snapped and asked what his fucking problem was.

And this was his answer? That she’d somehow kissed him out of pity?

“I’m not a charity case, Ms. French,” he nearly snarled at her. “Trust me when I say I’d rather remain celibate for the rest of my natural life than be the object of your misplaced pity.” 

Belle just shook her head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she insisted. “I kissed you because I’d had too much of Brody’s swill to drink, I haven’t been laid in months and despite my better judgment there are times when I find myself remarkably attracted to you. Pity had nothing to do with it.”

Rush just stared at her, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Belle held up a hand, counting off on her fingers “One: alcohol. Two: horniness. Three: your nice arse. Those were my only reasons.”

Rush shook his head. “You really don’t remember, do you?” he said wonderingly. 

Belle frowned. Her memories of that night were hazy, thanks to the moonshine. But she didn’t think anything vital was missing from her memory. 

“Remember what?” she asked. 

Rush scoffed, turning on his heel and leaving the room. 

“Remember what?” she called after him. But he either didn’t hear or didn’t care.


	2. I'm trying to avoid talking because I know what it'll lead to.

“I’m trying to avoid talking because I know what it’ll lead to,” Rush snorted into his glass. “And I don’t want that to come.”

“Oh come on, Rush,” Belle said, not taking his no for an answer. “Truth or dare. You have to pick one.”

The petite engineer was pressed against his side, nearly draped over him. Her words were already slurring together. They should quit while they were ahead, but Rush didn’t want to quit. He was enjoying himself with another human being for the first time in ages. He wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. 

“Truth,” he said finally, not quite trusting himself to a dare after all they’d had to drink. He might end up doing serious damage to Destiny if she dared him to reprogram the kinos to spy on Young in the showers or some other such nonsense. 

Belle took another ill advised sip of her drink, grimacing as she choked it down. He could sympathize. The shit tasted like pure gasoline. 

“Alright,” she said, her eyes watering from the drink, her cheeks rosy with it, while she tried to come up with a suitable question. 

She’s so beautiful, no matter how hard he’s tried not to notice. Rush might be married to his work, but he’s still a man with two working eyes. She’s bloody gorgeous and he spends far more time in close proximity with her than is healthy. When she proposed that they go to the makeshift bar for a drink after work, he should have said no. But here he is, halfway to blitzed with Belle by his side. Drinking games were the clear next step, the only way to make choking down the moonshine the least bit enjoyable. Well, that and the company. 

“Why are you…” she trailed off, her hands flapping around him as if encompassing his whole form. “Like this.” 

He arched an eyebrow at her choice of question. “Like what?”

Belle shrugged. “Acerbic. Misanthropic. Caustic.”

“I get the point,” he said with a raised hand to cut her off. He’s mildly impressed with her vocabulary seeing as she’s swaying gently and looks ready to topple off her chair. 

“So,” she said. “Why?”

Rush took a sip of his drink, buying himself a moment. “It’s just my personality, I suppose. Anti-social.”

Belle shook her head. “I don’t believe that. You have moments of levity and sometimes you’re even nice to me. Sometimes you’re even nice to _Eli_. If that was just your personality you wouldn’t be.” 

“Alright, Miss French,” he challenged her. “If you’re such a great study at human nature, why do you think I am the way I am?”

Belle cocked her head, looking at him critically. 

“I think you’re sad,” she said finally. 

Rush choked on his liquor, as much at her words as the taste. “Excuse me?”

“I think you’re sad and you’re lonely and you push people away out of habit. I think you were sad and lonely before we ever got stranded on Destiny. I think you were sad and lonely on Icarus Base, on Earth before that. I think you’ve been sad and lonely for so long you’ve forgotten how not to be.”

She finished her little speech with a nod. Rush wasn’t sure what to say. She was far too close to the truth for comfort and his only consolation was that the chances of Belle remembering any of this tomorrow were slim to none. She would awake with a raging headache and no memory of their late night conversations.

“I think you’re far too serious for this little game, Miss French,” he said, attempting to divert her attention elsewhere. “Shouldn’t you stick to questions like boxers or briefs?”

Belle chuckled, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. She smelled lovely despite the decided lack of soap on the ship. It must be her own scent, something heady and feminine and absolutely intoxicating. “Oh I plan on finding out the answer to that one in due time.”

Rush swallowed, his throat suddenly dry whether from the proximity of Belle or her come on, he couldn’t quite know for sure. 

“You wear a wedding ring, but you’ve never mentioned a wife,” she said, pulling back to make eye contact again. “Are you divorced?”

“Widowed,” he heard himself say in spite of himself. He didn’t want to let Belle French in, he didn’t want to get too close. He didn’t want to give her anything she could use against him. But somehow he felt compelled. 

“Oh,” she said, her eyes filling with tears and pity, always the damn pity. “That explains it.” 

He had no time to react before he had a lap full of Belle French. She’d somehow managed to straddle him in his chair, her hands going to bury in his hair before she was kissing him, hard and desperate. He could do little else but go along for the ride, letting her prise open his lips and tangle her tongue with his. His hands found her hips, hauling her flush against him. He could feel his cock stirring in his jeans, surging to life for its big moment after years of disuse. Belle groaned against his lips at the feel of it, grinding her hips down against his and he was going to come with embarrassing quickness. He hadn’t been with anyone since Gloria and it suddenly seemed a horrifying oversight because he was going to come in his pants from just a kiss from Belle French.

He should push her away. They’d had far too much to drink and she was sure to regret this in the sobering light of tomorrow. But she felt too good, he felt too good. And then he really felt too good. Belle was licking at the roof of his mouth, finding a spot that sent frissons down his spine. Her hips were still working against his, his long neglected cock painfully hard at the feel of her heat so close to him. Belle’s sharp little nails scratched at his scalp and it was too much, his balls drew up tight and before he knew it he was exploding in his own pants, neither of them having managed to get off even one article of clothing. He gasped, shuddering, his hands gripping at Belle’s waist tight enough to bruise, trying to still her. 

“Oh no,” she said, pulling back from him. She looked down at his lap then back up to meet his eyes. Shame burned his cheeks and he couldn’t maintain the eye contact. “Oh you poor thing. How long has it been?” 

He couldn’t sit here with wet trousers letting Belle Fucking French pet his hair and feel sorry for him, the poor little widower who hasn’t fucked in half a decade and comes in his pants from the least excitement. 

“Oh, Nicholas,” it’s the first time she’s ever called him by his first name and he can’t even enjoy her sweet little accent caressing the syllables of his name. Not now. She bends her head forward to kiss him again, her lips just brushing against his. But it’s not the same hunger as before. This time it’s a consolation, it’s pity. 

He pushed her off his lap, Belle sprawling on the floor beside the chair, looking up at him dazedly. 

“This was a mistake,” he said coldly before stomping off for his quarters. 

He’s stuck on a ship with Belle French and there will be no escaping her. He’ll have to work side by side with her tomorrow. He doesn’t think Belle will spread around the details of their prematurely ended tryst. She’s far too kind for that. But it’s that same kindness that will have her speaking to him softly like he’s a skittish animal, staring at him with so much pity in her eyes it will turn his stomach. He never stood a chance with Belle before, but now it’s really, truly impossible. 

When he gets to his room he collapses across the bed, already dreading tomorrow.


	3. It's been too long since you've really smiled

“It’s been too long since you’ve really smiled.”

“What?” Rush looked up at Belle from across the console room, annoyed at the interruption.

Belle just shrugged, not letting his caustic attitude bother her. After the past few days she’s more than used to it. Despite the tentative friendship that had been forming between them, and perhaps even a little something more, ever since she kissed him he’s treated her like the dirt on his boots. She still can’t even figure out what happened that night that he deems so terrible. All she can remember is kissing him, a little drunken fumbling, and waking up the next morning thinking about how much she’d like to do it again. She’s apparently missing something vital though from the way Rush is behaving and despite her repeated requests for clarification, he’s not talking.

“I used to be able to tease the occasional smile out of you,” she said. “But now you look perpetually miserable. It’s bringing me down.”

“Miss French, perhaps if you dedicated half as much time to the workings of this ship as you do to your unwanted observations of others we might have located the bridge by now.”

Belle just sighed, turning back to her work. Despite his shortness of temper, she’s counting this exchange as a win. It’s the single longest sentence he’s said to her in weeks.

That night as she lay in bed, staring at up at the ceiling and going over everything in her drunken memory for the hundredth time, she was still at a loss as to what went wrong. She’d have thought that Rush merely regretted it, that he had drunkenly kissed her and despite the flirtatious bent of their interactions up until that point, he didn’t actually want anything to do with her. But he’d accused her of kissing him out of pity. He had been hurt and he’d been lashing out ever since. She had done something wrong and it was driving her absolutely mad not to know what.

That’s when inspiration, coupled with a reckless sort of bravery, struck her. The only way she was ever going to know what happened was to recreate the conditions of that night. Somehow she would have to get Rush drinking again, she would have to kiss him, and she would have to see where it went. She wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to get Rush to agree to such a situation when the man would barely look at her much less agree to a drink.

As luck would have it, the perfect opportunity presented itself the very next day. Belle was going down to a planet along with Rush, Scott and Greer to collect data. There was an Ancient temple not far from the Stargate that they were eager to explore. They were just a small party today, the lack of consumable resources on the planet and the short window of time before the Stargate closed making it pointless for anyone else to tag along.

“You’ve got 8 hours,” Greer said as they approached the crumbling, stone structure. “Get what you need and lets get back to Destiny.”

Rush grumbled under his breath. Something about not rushing genius and Belle snorted a laugh.

A quick walkthrough of the temple revealed an antechamber leading into a large central room. On the far side of the main chamber there were several large stone tablets set into the wall, each bearing a different inscription.

“This isn’t Ancient,” Rush said pensively, his fingers brushing against the writing. “At least nothing like I’ve ever seen.”

“No,” Belle agreed. “I don’t recognize it either.”

“We need to record the symbols, bring it back to Destiny. We don’t have the time to sit here and puzzle it out.”

Belle could tell Rush was simultaneously annoyed that he didn’t have all the answers and excited at the prospect of learning something new. Part of her wished they had a larger window to sit and work on this together, but a larger part of her was happy to find a way to implement her plan.

“How about a friendly bet?” she asked, after they’d recorded all the symbols and were gathering up their tools. “I bet I can translate the stones before you.”

Rush arched an eyebrow at her. “You can’t possibly hope to win that bet,” he countered.

Belle just shrugged. “Then you have nothing to lose and everything to gain, don’t you?”

Rush suppressed an eye roll, crossing his arms against his chest.

“What are the terms of your bet, Miss French?”

Belle smiled, biting her lip as she considered.

“Well, if I lose, I will never ask you a personal question again for the duration of this mission, no matter how long that ends up being.”

Rush’s eyebrows arched ever higher. “Something you should aspire to anyway,” he said. “And if you win?”

Belle’s smile widened, as she maneuvered him exactly where she wanted him.

“You go on a date with me.”


End file.
